He said he had a magic trick
That always would impress.
He told me to pick any card
So I picked his American Express.
Tag Archives: Postaday
Just Peachy
I saw a gal I thought was cute
So I asked her thoughts on pitted fruit.
She said she thought plums were great
So I asked “How ’bout a date?”
Filed under Poems
What You Do When You Can’t Mock Kwanzaa Via Poetry And Keep Your Job
‘Twas the day after Christmas
And all through my mind
No ideas were stirring
Of the poetic kind.
I stood by the fire
While amidst the tumult
And I pumped out two stanzas,
This being the result.
Filed under Poems
Just A Century Ago
In the year 1918
Amidst a world we’ve never seen
The fighters of the first world war
Showed what God made our hearts for.
Among the trenches, wet and cold
A German soldier was so bold
As to sing, rather than fight,
A verse or two of “Silent Night.”
As dawn turned from gray to blue
One soldiers voice soon became two
And before the song was done
Two armies voices soon were one
And bayonets with white flags rose
And enemies came nose to nose
To swap greetings and cigarettes:
One Christmas morning, no regrets.
Whether trenches or safe spaces,
Between all people and all races
Lives a love that’s oft denied
That no longer should we hide.
If for a day or for a year
We sing of peace so foes can hear
Then whether brown or beige or black
We may just hear our foes sing back.
Filed under Poems
I’m Going To Say This Before Every Meal From Now On
Jesus was born in a manger
And in French “manger” means “to eat.”
I don’t know how that is relevant
But I still think it is neat.
Filed under Poems
When Nerds Die
While I was at a funeral
I had to share a thought.
I stood and shouted “Plethora!”
They said “Thanks. That means a lot.”
Filed under Poems
Happy Holidays?
I learned a Christmas magic trick:
First, choose any number
Then subtract the area code
From your local plumber,
Divide the difference by itself
Times the weight of George Costanza
And you have the number of people
Who actually celebrate Kwanzaa.
Filed under Poems
She’ll Start Exercising In January
The lady on the internet
Wrote “5551618.”
I thought that was her phone number
But, alas, ’twas just her weight.
Filed under Poems
Christmas In Cascadia
We the people laugh and sing
Though our houses serve as graves
To the offspring of the forests
And the farms of evergreen slaves.
We hang lights on the bodies
Of the trees we cut ourselves
And celebrate the sootiness
Of indentured arctic elves.
Our celebration is offensive
To terrorists a world away
Thus to mention “Merry Christmas”
Means you’re probably anti-gay.
So just say “Happy Holidays,”
And smile and submit
So folks who think this poem is serious
Will not have a fit.
Filed under Poems
Mississippi Family Reunions
She said “My name is Margaret.”
He said “My name is Jake,
“And may I say, dear sister,
“You smell different when you’re awake.”
Filed under Poems
The Daily Travesty 